


fly on the wall

by CaptainJimothyCarter



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fics [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A prompt from tumblr, Aka Jack is neglectful parent, DO NOT READ IF YOU LIKE JACK THOMPSON, Drabbles, F/M, Jack's a full ass in this and he deserves it, NOT JACK THOMPSON FRIENDLY, One-shot drabble, Peggy is a wonderful parent, Single Parent Peggy, Single Parents, Steggy - Freeform, Steggy Drabbles, THEY'RE DORKS, Teacher Steve Rogers, There's a brief Jack/Peggy marriage, neglectful parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter
Summary: The prompt given to me on Tumblr: Steggy prompt: Peggy recently moved to Brooklyn after her divorce, and now Steve is her daughter's first grade teacher.Peggy might as well be a single parent when it comes to parenting a child with Jack Thompson who wants nothing to do with the fact that she is both his wife and carrying their child. It takes seven years but Peggy is finally able to leave Jack with no help from her 'suggestive' mother and navigates Brooklyn on her own.Sarah is due to start school within a week and knowing how nervous her daughter gets, Peggy takes her on a tour of the school where they find a two-story library and it's just over from there for her daughter and her obsession with books.Funny enough, Peggy finds something or well, someone charming to study while her daughter does all the talking.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Tumblr Prompt Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952281
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	fly on the wall

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is a kinda short one-shot that just briefs right through with no solid conclusion but hey I love it and so should ya'll.
> 
> And no, I do not like Jack Thompson.

Jack was a good father, but not a good husband. That was a lie Peggy told herself ever since her daughter was born. Sure, he didn’t change the diaper, he had something against the infant sleeping in their bed, and wasn’t there when she had to have an emergency c-section but he was an okay father.

This was her lying to herself, not for the sake of saving the embarrassment of a divorce or because of money or a job, or any of the bullshit people were speculating, but because she knew what it was like to grow up without a father and she didn’t want that for her daughter. Until she saw Jack was not the father that Sarah needed.

Jack was no father at all, he didn’t even qualify to be a husband. He was a presence in the house, a burden. She made more money than him and paid all the bills. She was the one who read stories to Sarah every night, who did her hair, made her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and took her to swimming practice. In fact, she did everything for Sarah, doctor appointments, homework, parent-teacher meetings, last-minute bake-sales.

What in the hell did she marry Jack for then other than an accidental one night stand and at the insistence of her mother?

Perhaps _that_ was it. Marrying this sexist idiot who thought of himself above others because of the tool between his legs. Because her mother had once again gotten into her head and forced her hand. Michael would be ashamed of their mother – never of Peggy. He would’ve _loved_ Sarah.

“I’m leaving him, mother.” Peggy had called her late one evening after Sarah was put to bed when the clock struck ten and Jack still hasn’t home. Most likely out drinking once again. She could hear her mother’s breath hitch on the other end.

“Of course you’re not, dear.” She always had a way of speaking to Peggy that spoke _down_ to her like she was still Sarah’s age. “This is just a momentarily hitch, you two will get over it. You just have to please him more. Make sure the baby is sated so he doesn’t have to listen to her cries.”

“Sarah is not an infant, mother! She’s seven and is starting first grade come this fall. And I’ll have you know that Jack is not the husband that you say he is. He doesn’t take care of Sarah. He doesn’t do a damn thing but go to work, come home drunk, and make a mess of a home that I spent all day cleaning after I worked all day. Sarah doesn’t deserve to be raised in a household with a man who won’t even recognize her existence.”

“Well, clearly you’re not doing something right, Margaret. Have you-”

Peggy didn’t even hear the end of the sentence, hanging up on her mother with a roll of her eyes. It was a mistake to call her but she had to tell someone and since it was just her and Sarah and she wasn’t putting this on her, it was her mother. Clearly, that was a mistake.

\--

Brooklyn was the right choice. It was friendly, open, and a hell of a lot better in some ways than Washington. First off, it didn’t have Jack’s stench all over it. Anywhere she’d turn, there was someplace tainted with his memory and she wanted to escape that. Moving Sarah to Brooklyn Elementary had been made easy by the Principal and Vice-Principal’s assistance and she was grateful, dreading that.

_She’d told Jack that night that she was leaving him, divorcing him. He’d turned a strange shade of red and dared to try to take a swing at her before she threw a right hook into his jawline that sent him spiraling backwards into the alcohol cabinet that he was so fond of._

_“Don’t you ever think about touching me or Sarah like that again, do you understand me?” Her voice was hard and low, dangerous. Her brown eyes intense as they glared down at him as if to burn holes into his skull. “I’ve let you walk all over me long enough until I got some sense about me because I wanted you to be there for Sarah and clearly you’d rather spent time with Belinda at the bar.”_

_“You won’t find better than me,” Jack insisted, voice slurred as he forced himself off and out of the glass. “You won’t find anyone like me! Do you think I wanted you? I only hitched you because you were pregnant and felt sorry for you! No one is going to put up with you, Carter. Do you hear me? No one!”_

_Peggy wasn’t listening to Jack, not right off. She was focused on Sarah who’d heard the crash and ran straight into her arms. Her pigtails shimmering as Peggy picked her up and wrapped her in a blanket, glaring at Jack over her daughter’s shoulders. “That’s the point, Jack. I’d rather be alone and caring for my daughter than to deal with the likes of you or my mother. I know what I’m worth and my time isn’t worth staying here with the likes of you. You’ll find the paperwork on the counter. Good day.”_

Fall was coming into Brooklyn and Peggy was grateful, tired of the heat. She was British at heart, no matter how long she lived in America, she did not handle the heat well.

“Alright,” she sighed at her daughter, taking her hand as they crossed the last street. “The Principal promised us that we can have a private tour of the school so you’re familiar. We’ll be meeting your teacher today too. Then you start classes next week.”

Sarah was a quiet thing until she was rightfully upset. She spoke her mind and got into loads of trouble. She didn’t like bullies and certainly knew how to defend herself especially from teachers. She was her mother’s child through and through and damn Peggy was grateful Jack never had a hand raising her. To think of the damage he’d do…

The school was large for an elementary school if you asked Peggy. Large classrooms, gym class, gymnastics, computer classes, and not to mention the hundreds of different sports and after school programs. It would be good to sign Sarah up for some, given Peggy’s work schedule would run over some.

“Library!” Sarah gasped at the heavy oak doors propped open by a stack of books, practically bouncing up and down. Peggy had no hope of calming her down when she saw the rows and rows of books. Sarah had grown up in the library, knew the Dewy Decimal System by heart – or at least more so than other kids her age. Read well beyond her grade level and could comprehend most subjects adults rolled their eyes at.

Still, Sarah’s love was sci-fi and mystery novels.

“Darling …” And, she was gone, Sarah bounded off into the library, making Peggy laugh and lightly jog after her. “I am so sorry,” she told the young librarian as Sarah bounded between the aisles. My, it was large. Two stories actually with stairs and elevators. She was on some hand jealous here.

The young librarian, a man with blonde hair and purple hearing aids just laughed. “She’s no problem. I’m just glad to see someone loving books for once instead of groaning when their teachers drag them in here. She’s gonna be a feisty one, I can tell, but don’t you worry I’ll keep an eye on her.”

They chatted lightly about books while Sarah weaved in between them, pressing book after book onto the counter. The librarian, a man named Clint laughed at her selection varying between a murder mystery, a historic novelization on King Author, deep-sea extraditions, and facts about dogs.

“I should go get her before she checks out the whole library.” Rolling her eyes fondly, Peggy went to search through the isles. “Sarah!”

There was no callback, so she found herself upstairs. She could hear Sarah chatting away to someone. Odd, she was normally so reserved and quiet unless she knew someone. Who did she find so soon to talk to?

Rounding the corner, Peggy found herself staring at the side profile of a man with broad shoulders, wearing a tweet jacket, olive green sweater, and thick-rimmed glasses on the tip of his freckled nose. He had a thick beard coming in and his blonde hair swept out of his face. He didn’t look like he belonged in some elementary school, if anything he should be teaching psychology or history at the local university, not elementary subjects. He was quite handsome and that smile, the way his lips caught in his teeth, made Peggy’s heart lurch.

Sarah was in the midst of conversation, doing all the talking as she rambled on and on about a book in her hand about superheroes. The guy was sitting criss-cross on the floor, adjacent his daughter, nodding along. He laughed at something she said, head thrown back, holding onto his chest. A full belly laugh. He wasn’t downplaying her, he was talking _to_ her, listening to her. Not many grown adults did that.

“Hello,” Peggy mused when her daughter decided to pause for a breath. She knelt down beside Sarah, adjusting the flow of her flowered day dress. She smoothed the wrinkles from Sarah’s shoulders and brushed her hair back. “Did you find someone to talk to?”

Sarah’s head bobbed up and down excitedly, missing the way the two adults looked over one another. “Uh-huh! This is Mr. Rogers! He teaches first grade! His favorite subject is history and art – he draws lots too. I was telling him about how we moved here from Washington because Jack was an asshole.”

Peggy’s face flushed a bright shade of pink while Steve laughed, the woman burying her face into her hands. “Sarah, I’ve told you not to say that word. Yes, I will admit he was that, but we do not say that around other people. Only at home.” She was only human and Peggy cursed. Lots. She tried not to around Sarah but became fully aware that Sarah would grow up around that language at any rate. Sarah knew better than most to curse like that.

“Well, he is,” Sarah pouted. “He called you yesterday and said that I was a mistake.”

Oh, that look on Sarah’s face and the anger residing in Peggy. She picked Sarah up and cradled her in her lap. A glance over to Mr. Rogers’ face showed the same anger but better hidden.

“You must be Peggy – she’s told me all about you,” Steve said in a soft tone, setting his book aside and scooting closer so he could gently touch Sarah’s arm. “It’s Sarah, right?”

The little girl nodded and Steve smiled brightly, all white teeth that stood out amongst the beard.

“Only the best and bravest of people are named Sarah. My ma’s name is Sarah and she’s the bravest, smartest person, I know!” His voice was soft as he met Sarah’s chocolate eyes, that mirrored her mother’s and gently rubbed his thumb along her arm. “You are not a mistake, never. Ever. Don’t believe what that a-idiot says, okay?”

The little girl smiled brightly despite the flushed cheeks and Peggy’s arms tighter around her. “Like mama! Mama’s smart and brave! She punched Jack in the face when he tried to hurt her! And this morning she took down a guy who stole an old lady’s purse!”

Steve’s brow disappeared into his hairline, his hair flopping against his forehead as he looked up at Peggy. Peggy’s cheeks flushed a brighter warm again, resisting the urge to fix his hair. “What I would give to be a fly on that wall,” he muttered.

“Sarah has a way of painting tales to make them seem more…exciting than they are,” she sighed, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. “But Mr. Rogers is right. You are not a mistake, little one. You are my sunshine and I will not have you believe a single word that man says. We’re getting my number changed and he will no longer be able to contact either of us, okay?”

“So,” Steve breathed once Sarah had calmed down enough to believe their words and were now taking her last two books to the counter and talking to Barton. He stood beside Peggy, towering over her, even in heels, his hands shoved into his pocket. He still didn’t look like a teacher but he had the natural attitude and calming demeanor of one. “How hard did you punch him – your ex-husband?”

Peggy giggled at that. A giggle of all things! Her. She never giggled. Or she never found the right person to giggle with. “Hard enough to knock some sense into him, though I’m afraid it leaked out.”

Steve gave a soft whistle that was just loud enough for her to hear, Peggy, rolling her eyes again. “And this morning with your thief?”

“Oh, that? That was nothing more than the right place at the right time. He snatched her purse and tried to bolt soon as the train doors opened, I merely grabbed him by his hair and put him into a chokehold to bring him down until he was sobbing.” Steve at least looked impressed and she liked that.

“Remind me to call you when I’m in trouble. And to never get on your bad side.” His hand lingered just a moment on her arm, giving a squeeze before he was stepping up to the counter to talk to a troubled looking Clint.

Peggy could hear the ends of the conversation – something about Sarah not having her student ID but it was fine because Mr. Rogers was going to check out all these books for her on the promise he gets to hear about each one. Ten minutes later they were standing outside of a bland-looking classroom with no decorations or furniture even and Mr. Rogers was rocking on his heels with a nervous look.

“I think it’s a good thing that you’re my student, Miss Sarah because then I get to hear all about the books.” The way he spoke to her daughter, Peggy knew Steve was sincere about it too. He _wanted_ to hear about the books and all that Sarah had learned. “And I uh, should apologize about this…” He waved his hand at the empty classroom, cheeks flushing a soft pink under his beard. “I promise it’s going to look amazing when you two are here for opening day. I just got everything out and deep cleaned it all, you won’t believe how much stuff the other teachers hoard in those closets. I found a textbook from 1912! It’s actually in the library right now.”

Peggy gave an impressed whistle that just made Steve flush all the darker, their eyes boring straight into one another. Her hand on Sarah’s shoulder, thumb rubbing against the sweater. “Well, I think I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Rogers. I know Sarah is going to be incapable of hands this year. What do we say to Mr. Rogers about the books, Sarah?”

“Thank you!” The little girl hugged the stack stuffed into a tote against her chest with an ear-to-ear grin. “Thank you so much! But Mr. Rogers, you should ask my mama out so you two can talk more about art! Mr. Clint said I am always welcome at the library and I can stay with him!”

Both adults flushed and Peggy suddenly found her watch very interesting while Steve cleared his throat. “Darling,” she finally sighed, shaking her head. “I love you but do not try to set me up on dates and I am sure Mr. Clint doesn’t live at the library and needs to go home sometime too. I think we should get going, Mr. Rogers. We’ll see you at eight o’clock on the dot Monday morning.”

Steve was still blushing as he waved goodbye to an overexcited Sarah before his eyes fell to the well put-together mother who’d been through too much. “Don’t you dare be late.”

It was Peggy’s turn to grin as she hoisted her daughter up and with the other arm, carried what had to be over fifteen pounds of books. “I wouldn’t dream of it, I think Sarah will kill me if I made us late for her first day of school.”


End file.
